


never see your interior whole

by SyntheticRevenge



Category: Campaign (Podcast)
Genre: Drunken Kissing, Missing Scene, Other, episode 56 did a Lot for me guys idk, i have to name even my cute stupid short fic dramatic things it's a disease, i want implied/referenced hazards of love to be a tag, this is dumb and soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:54:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23676442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SyntheticRevenge/pseuds/SyntheticRevenge
Summary: It’s late, really late, and they’re in the alley outside the bar, Travis leaning against a wall to keep himself upright, and Gable realizes they’ve never seen him in the moonlight before.(missing scene for episode 56)
Relationships: Gable/Travis Matagot
Comments: 10
Kudos: 56





	never see your interior whole

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in an hour during a Zoom class because I can't stop thinking about soft drunk trable. Hope y'all enjoy.   
> (Title from Why Would I Now by the Decemberists, aka James's Official Trable Song)

It’s late, really late, and they’re in the alley outside the bar, Travis leaning against a wall to keep himself upright, and Gable realizes they’ve never seen him in the moonlight before. It makes him look softer. Less likely to bite.

“So, friend,” Gable says, leaning on the wall next to him. Jonnit and Margaret are in the street, about ten feet away, Jonnit eagerly asking her about all the places she’s been.

Travis groans, sliding down the wall to the ground. “Don’t.”

“I think that bottle you won last hand might’ve been the bad stuff,” Gable says, smirking down at him, but sitting too.

“I am  _ fine _ , and don’t you start trying to help again,” Travis says, bitterly, pushing their face away, or at least attempting to, but their face is stronger than his hand. “I just need a moment to regroup.”

“Are you okay?” they ask, softly, some pang of worry and affection flooding their heart. Bogwine is delightfully fruity, but the feelings aren’t a wonderful side effect.

“ _ No _ ,” Travis says. “We’ve been over this. Haven’t you heard that I’m a Very Broken Thing? Because I have. So. Many. Times.”

“So am I,” Gable says, shrugging against the cold wall, looking down at Travis, who really does look like a broken thing. Night seems to take some of his confidence away. He doesn’t hold himself as straight. 

On second thought, that could also be the unholy quantities of alcohol. Gable tries not to think about how bad the morning is going to feel.

“Margaret, she’s…” Travis starts, then shakes his head, pressing a hand to his forehead, strands of hair tangling in his fingers. “She’s some kind of magic I don’t understand.”

“Yes, she’s a Black Lily, you--” Gable starts, but Travis looks up and meets their eyes, face set like a stubborn child.

“Not just  _ that _ ,” Travis snaps, holding up his hand, where Margaret’s mark is. “I know she’s a Black Lily, thank you. I mean that she’s...ugh. It doesn’t matter.”

“No, what?” Gable asks. There’s a loud exclamation of ‘ _ you actually did that? _ ’ from Jonnit, and a melodic, pleasant laugh from Margaret, and the sound seems to send a chill down Travis’s spine.

“Nothing,” Travis says. “I’m drunk and tired. Nothing. Why do you even  _ care _ ?”

“Travis…” they say, then sigh. They remember the time he came back into their life starving and broken. They remember him in the cell next to them, his tapping on their wall at odd hours to harass them, they remember...they remember all two hundred years of it, and this bogwine is making them way too fucking sentimental. They almost feel tenderness for him.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” he says, flatly. 

Before they can stop themself, they put a hand on his head and guide it to their shoulder. His breath hitches, but he curls into their side, face pressed into their chest. 

“You’re going to be alright,” Gable says. “You always are.”

Travis laughs weakly. “Yes, well, no thanks to you.”

“Many thanks to me, I have  _ saved  _ your small, ungrateful ass so many times.”

“My ass is not  _ small _ ,” Travis says, scandalized. “We can’t all be seven feet tall and perfectly proportioned like you.”

“Boney butt,” Gable says, trying not to smile, and Travis disentangles himself from them to cross his arms and glare up at them. 

“You fuck up my curse and then you insult my ass,” Travis says. “You are the worst friend.”

“But I  _ am _ your friend,” Gable says, waggling their eyebrows.

“You are an  _ insufferable _ drunk, you know that?”

“You love it,” Gable says, beaming, ruffling his hair. “You  _ love  _ me, Travis Matagot. I’m your  _ best friend _ in the  _ world _ and you  _ love  _ me.”

“Shut  _ up _ ,” Travis says, shaking his head, smiling at the damp ground.

“Make me. I dare you.”

Travis cups a hand around Gable’s jaw, pulls them down, and kisses them, briefly but forcefully. When he lets go, Gable blinks, startled.

“I won the dare,” Travis says, raising an eyebrow and smirking. “What’s my prize?”

“Um.”

“Do you have a watch on you?”

“Uh. We should...Jonnit…” Gable says, gesturing vaguely in Jonnit and Margaret’s direction.

“Coward,” Travis says, sticking his tongue out and pushing himself to his feet by more or less climbing Gable’s side. “Fine. Let’s Jonnit.”

“You’re a spicy little night man, aren’t you?” Gable asks, and Travis snorts. 

“I feel like ‘spicy little night man’ might invoke Spit, be careful.”

“ _ Don’t say his name _ ,” Gable hisses. Travis reaches a hand down to attempt to pull them to their feet, and because they’re not thinking, they take the hand, and manage to pull him fully onto their lap.

He sighs. “Am I so irresistible?”

Gable blushes. “Shut up.”

Neither of them moves for a moment, just stare into each other’s eyes, until Travis clears his throat and climbs back off Gable. “You can get yourself up, I’m in the mood to keep the arms I have left.” He gives them a small salute and weaves his way over to Jonnit and Margaret, draping himself across both their shoulders.

“Fucking  _ bogwine _ ,” Gable whispers to themself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, all feedback is appreciated <3


End file.
